The (Domestic) Adventures of Team Human
by tranland
Summary: Through 8.23. Team Human and their various exploits of humanity, such as baking, obscure pop culture references, and killing monsters. Just normal family stuff.
1. In the Beginning

AN: Shit, guys. THE END OF S8 WAS REALLY PAINFUL.

So I took it upon myself to fix it. Well, make it less painful. Here you will find the Domestic Adventures of Team Human, starring Dean, Cas, Sam, Crowley, Kevin and sprinkled with other fun characters such as Momma Tran, Charlie, Garth and Benny!

Hopefully this won't end painfully. Also, Destiel. It is here. Sorry.

* * *

For once, everything went perfectly and according to plan.

Sure, there were a few hitches - Crowley's summoning of Abbadon definitely threw a hitch in the works, but Sam managed to get past it, and Naomi's total freakout had put a worried rain on Dean and Castiel's parade - but they worked through it and saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

Cas closed the gates of Heaven, sacrificing his own grace in order to seal the gates shut. "Metatron can help them now," he had told Dean, "They don't need me anymore." Dean knew the ex-angel was referring to him at that point. Apparently he still had a good memory, despite the whole grace-ripping-out thing. Castiel's ringing screams still echoed in his ears.

Sam purified Crowey just as the gates of Heaven slammed shut, which in Dean's opinion was kind of hilarious. Crowley, of course, seemed broken and a complete mess by the time he was 'purified', but he wouldn't let go of Sam for anything. Claimed the kid was his key to _atonement_, or whatever.

Dean still insisted they worked the demon tests on him and everything. Holy water rolled right off him, and salt and iron had no effect on him. Crowley was completely human. A dry sniffle alerted Dean to the now-human's distress, as Crowley muttered, "Didn't need to get my suit all wet," and then a tentative smile cracked at the ex-demon's lips and Dean felt a strange warmth erupt in his chest for Crowley that he never would have imagined. The world was changing in new and amazing ways, apparently.

After that, Sam and Dean dragged both suddenly-mortal beings into the Impala and drove off to the bunker. Dean drove, while Sam called up Kevin and told him to get a few new rooms ready. They'd be adding a "plus two" to the reservation.

By the time the Impala roared to a stop in Lebanon, Kansas, Dean had a feeling that the next few weeks would be absolute hell on Sam, Kevin and himself. Crowley, having not been human for more than a few thousand years (as it turns out, the whole "Fergus" thing was a load of bull), had no idea how to maneuver himself in human functions. Cas, having only been human once before (and dying shortly thereafter), had even less of an idea. Both men had been complaining up a storm, and Dean knew he wasn't the only one about to blow a fuse, if the look on Sam's exhausted face was any indication.

Kevin could deal with the two of them for a short while. Just long enough for Sam and Dean to get like, four hours.

Of course, once the four walked into the bunker, Kevin greeted them with tired eyes. "I couldn't find the rooms you guys were talking about," he grunted, collapsing into one of the chairs in what served as the living room. Cas yawned, looking slightly worried, while Crowley blinked owlishly and shrugged.

"I don't have to sleep for a while yet," he suggested, looking regretfully at Kevin. "I just need some grub. Would you mind showing me what there is to eat around here?" Dean could see the apology in Crowley's face as he looked at Kevin. The prophet regarded him with cold eyes, but something in them changed, and his demeanor softened.

"Yeah, come on. I'll show you the kitchen," he sighed as he turned around. Crowley brightened considerably and followed after him like a lost puppy. "The place is like a damn maze, I tell you."

Cas yawned one more time, and turned to face Dean. "It's been a while since I last slept," he grunted, looking up at Dean through long lashes, and _fuck_ if Dean wasn't a sucker for that face, "Where will I go?"

Fuck. "Just room with me, buddy. My bed's big enough for two, even if one of us is a cover-hog." Dean grinned lightly and clapped his friend on the back. "After all, there's plenty of time for us to find you a good room to have all to yourself." He had a feeling that Cas was gonna have nightmares that night, too - after all, he had been having them ever since he fell. Dean wanted to make sure he would be okay, because damn it if he wasn't growing an even softer spot for the ex-angel than usual.

"I didn't get to show you my room last time, anyways," Dean commended as he walked Cas back to his room, one hand clasped over his friend's shoulder, "It's awesome. I promise. I decorated it and everything. And the mattress? It _remembers_me."

"But the mattress is an inanimate object-"

"No, Cas. It remembers me."

There was a pause before Castiel hung his head and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Dean," he said at last. Dean tried to ignore the sniggering of his asshole baby brother, but when he couldn't do that he held up his hand and flipped his brother the bird as he and Cas walked through the threshold and into his room.

He ignored the pointed, "You wish you were doing that to Cas," that Sammy blurted out right before slamming the door in his face. Kid was sick and stupid. Didn't know what he was talking about.

When he turned back to look at Cas, the guy had already wiggled out of his shoes and folded up his trench coat. He was in the action of placing it on Dean's desk when the hunter held out one hand to stop him. "Hey man, let's just hang that up. No need to clutter everything up."

Cas only nodded and glided over to the closet. He pulled out a hanger and struggled with the thing for a minute before getting the hang of it - ha ha, _hang_ - and managing to get the coat onto the hanger. He placed it back into the closet carefully, as if he was afraid he would break it. He turned around to look at Dean, a small glint of hope in his eyes. "So... which side of the bed do you want?" Cas asked, his voice surprisingly small for once. Dean swallowed nervously and gestured to the bed.

"Uh... your choice, man," Dean grumbled quietly, "I mean, I can have any side any day I choose. It's your turn, I guess." And god, did that sound terribly awkward. It didn't matter, though, because Cas simply shrugged and crawled into the side of the bed he was facing. The poor guy hadn't had a change of clothes after his fall, and they hadn't spared any time getting back to the bunker. Crowley still had his suit on, for that matter, and if Dean felt a tiny twinge of guilt at that, well. The dude was human now, despite all the shitty things he had done as a demon. His attention was directed back at the bed, where a shirt, tie and a pair of dress pants flew out of it, leaving Cas only in his boxers. Dean swallowed drily.

Well. Two could play at that game. Maybe. Dean shoved off his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt carefully before realizing that he hadn't brushed his teeth yet. Oh well, there would be time for that another day. He stripped off his jeans and pulled his shirt off. There he was, boxered glory and all. He slipped into the other side of the bed comfortably, and before he knew it he was fast asleep.


	2. Morning After

**AN: I needed this fic so much that I already wrote a second part to it.  
I just want Crowley to be the sassy kitchen dude. He and Dean will bicker in the kitchen, and trade different cooking recipes, and they'll bond over cooked food just like Sam and Cas bond over literature!  
THINGS I WISH WOULD HAPPEN: THIS.  
If you review I'll give you a cookie. That Crowley baked. So maybe you don't want it. Um.**

* * *

When Dean woke up, he had an armful of angel-turned-human-turned-octopus in his arms, and a healthy case of morning wood pressing at his stomach.

The problem with that was that it was _not his_ morning wood. His was conveniently pressed into the dip in Castiel's hips.

Shit. This was something he hadn't had to deal with yet, and unfortunately he hadn't seen ahead to this... _mishap_. In an attempt to get out of Cas' arms, his erection brushed against the ex-angel's hip, and a strong burst of _ohfuckme_ washed through his body, setting his nerves alight with a sudden inferno. Cas mumbled softly and shifted his hips, which brought the angel's dick rubbing up against Dean one more time. In an effort to hold back a moan, Dean bit down on his lower lip and tried _so fucking hard_ to inch his way out of Castiel's arms. Cas was clearly having none of it, and the vice-like grip of his arms tightened around Dean as Cas rocked his hips one more time. A soft, breathy gasp fell out of his mouth, brushing against Dean's heated face, and he clutched Dean even tighter. The hunter was warring with himself and the urge to just give in to the overwhelming _need_ rushing through his veins.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted Dean's horrible inner monologue. He snapped his eyes shut, taking the look of a man just woken from sleep. He cracked his eyes open to be met with Castiel's wide, terrified blue eyes. "You guys alive in there?" Sa's voice floated in from the door. "It's, ah, morning." His voice was oddly strained. Dean was was instantly alert for trouble.

"Uh, yeah! We're fine in here!" Dean called out, furrowing his brows and trying _so fucking hard_ not to look down at the very obvious boner. Well, both of them. "We'll be out in a sec."

"Good," Sam replied, his voice taking on a worried tone, "Crowley seems to have run into a... _problem_."

A faint, scottish-sounding curse from where Dean assumed was the kitchen alerted both tangled-up men to the predicament that was happening as they played cuddle. Dean wrestled his way out of Cas's arms, finally, and managed not to fall out of the bed and onto his ass. "Shit," Dean swore before grabbing his pants from the floor where they had fallen previously, "We'll be right there."

Sam's giant footsteps faded away, and Dean worked his clothes on eventually. Cas was slower than Dean, and by the time Dean was all ready to see what the commotion was, Cas had just barely gotten out of bed. "Dude," Dean grunted, "do you even _have_ clothes that aren't Jimmy's?"

At Castiel's puppy-like look, Dean groaned in frustration and stumbled over to his closet. "We're close enough in size that these'll do for now," he sighed, and pulled out some jeans and a plaid shirt that Cas could wear. "Put these on." He threw the clothes at the fallen angel, and ignored the glowing baby blues directed his way. "If Crowley fucked something up, I swear to god..."

He burst out of the room, Castiel hopping into one pant leg behind him. He ignored the ex-angel's whining and ran into the kitchen, desperately hoping not to see blood spattered on the walls and Kevin's head in the sink or something -

Oh.

_Oh._

The wave of heat was enough to send sweat pooling in his back. Crowley was shouting at the stove, where a fire was raging up from a small pan of black and crispy... _something_.

"What the _fuck_ did you do?" Dean roared as he searched for the fire extinguisher that he knew they had installed into the kitchen.

"I just thought about making some breakfast, dammit!" Crowley yelled back, waving his arms around and making a general fuss about himself. Cas finally popped into the room, his eyes wide with the sudden realization of danger.

Dean finally found the extinguisher and grabbed it without a moment of hesitation. Thank god John had taught him how to use the things, otherwise he would have been burned to a crisp a long time ago. White, fluffy coolant sprayed out like an explosion of Jet-Puff, and the fire hissed and sparked until it finally died out.

Dean threw the red metal tube aside and turned to glare at Crowley. "_That_ was breakfast?" He growled, clenching one fist. "Surprisingly enough, it wasn't all that filling."

"It was supposed to be a crepe, you buffoon," Crowley bit back, returning to the blackened pan he had been cooking on. "I guess I used too much oil. It's been a while!" He responded after a moment, with sad I-just-got-turned-human eyes that_damn it_, Dean couldn't not forgive.

"Fine, asshat," he grumbled, "but you have to clean this up."

Crowley mumbled an appropriate response and immediately got to searching for cleaning products. After a bit of help, he found enough steel wool and SOS to clean off even the blackest of burns. He set to work, scrubbing the stove with a set-in-stone glower that only grew with time. Dean shrugged, having done his duty, and turned back to face Cas. The ex-angel was watching Crowley work, and a strange smile was set upon his face.

"What is it?" Dean asked, his head craning back around for another look. Cas just shrugged and that strange smile grew just a bit wider.

"I've... never seen him that _human_ before. Even when I saw him every few days, he never..." the smile faded, only to be replaced with a small frown. Uh oh. Dean could see the soul-crushing guilt just swoop right in and start to strangle poor old Cas.

"Hey," he placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "you did your best. Now he's doing his. Let's just... move on from that, okay?" He couldn't say those _other_ words, the let-bygones-be-bygones, because even in his head they rang hollow and untrue. Dean was still hurting from what Cas did.

The fact that he had been close to getting off on said dude this morning was making things even worse. The topper on the cake was that Cas didn't even know he had done it. Almost done it. Fuck, _whatever_. Dean was an idiot, and that was final. The hand previously placed on Cas' shoulder fell, and a concerned pout formed on his lips.

"You're thinking something sad. Stop it," Castiel gazed at him with the clearest eyes Dean had ever had the misfortune of seeing, and placed a hand on Dean's own shoulder. _Okay_. "You don't deserve to be sad."

"You can't exactly threaten to throw me back into Hell anymore, buddy," Dean's grin was fake and couldn't look real to anyone at all, "I think I'm the one calling the shots now."

"Oh my god, would you two idiots get to fucking and get out of my kitchen?" Crowley complained, an unwilling witness to the bare-bones conversation the the two were having. "I get it, Mommy and Daddy have their little spats, but we all like it so much better when you can't stop waxing poetic balderdash and making googly eyes at each other."

Dean and Castiel had to pause to take a good, long look at Crowley. He was still slaving away at the stove, mind you, but his eyes were fixated on the other two, glaring them down and daring either one of them to deny his words. Dean cleared his throat, while Cas wrung his hands nervously. "Right," Dean said after a tense moment, "I'm gonna go... take a shower. Because... _yeah_."

He left without a moment to pause and debilitate the situation a second time. Cas continued to stand there, staring at Crowley with eyes that seemed to penetrate through the now-human's indignant own. "See you later, Crowley," Cas grumbled before whipping around himself and walking out of the kitchen.

Dean made sure the water in his shower was extra cold.


	3. She

**AN: Hellooo! What's this? A new character? ****_Ooh_****.  
I hope I did her justice.**

* * *

The day _she_ arrived, things got a little odd. "Uh, hello?" The woman called out. "Anyone in there?"

Castiel was busy counting money. Dean had promised to take him shopping for clothes later that day, seeing as they had gone a week since closing the gates and the ex-angel was still wearing his clothes. Castiel didn't mind them, though. It was comforting, to wear something so familiar to him. The scent of leather and whiskey coated Dean's clothes in a way that wrapped Cas up like a blanket, and he had no intention of getting rid of the shirts Dean had loaned him.

When he head the plaintive call, Cas opened the door and was greeted with a sight he wasn't all too familiar with. A woman with fiery red hair stared up at him, wearing chain mail and holding a crown under her arm. He stared at her in confusion, and she stared back at him with suspicion, and it was all very strange until he cleared his throat and mumbled, "Ah, I think you have the wrong address."

"Yeah, like I could forget where this place is," she snorted, shoving past Castiel in effort to get through. The ex-angel tried to stop her, but to no avail. "Dean!" She called out, "Where the _hell_ is my hand-maiden?"

A loud curse echoed from his and Dean's bedroom, and the hunter she had called forth stumbled out a little haphazardly. "Dude, Charlie! I thought the next meet was on the twenty-third!"

A strange, sarcastic little smirk twitched at her lips as she responded, "Dude, it _is_ the twenty-third."

Sam, who had been casually reading a book in the 'living room' of their home, froze and looked up sheepishly. "I totally forgot," he apologized, "Sorry, Charlie!"

Dean, blushing, ducked back into his room with a hurried "I'll be right out!"

Castiel had no clue what was going on. Neither did Crowley, apparently, because he popped his head out from the kitchen, raised a single eyebrow at the woman, then popped back into the kitchen and returned to his cooking. He really was coming along quite nicely. He hadn't even set anything on fire since that first day after they got home.

"It's fine, Sammy-boy. How're things with you?" Charlie shrugged, flopping herself down on a chair opposite from the gigantic man. "What's with all the houseguests? Do they... _know_?" One eyebrow twitched silently, asking a question that Cas was rolling his eyes at even before Sam had the chance to chuckle nervously.

"Ah, no. C'mere, man," Sam gestured to Cas with a grin, and so he complied. "This is Cas. Cas, meet Charlie. Charlie, meet Cas." He grinned at her then, and a few moments later her face broke out into a wide smile.

"You're Cas? The angel, Castiel?" Charlie seemed incredulous (but excited) at this prospect. Castiel had no idea where she would have even heard of him, but he nodded brokenly and looked at his hands, intertwined around the other.

"Not an angel anymore," he mumbled, biting his lower lip nervously. "I just recently fell. Completely human now." He found some odd reserve of resolve and looked up to meet her eyes, a silent challenge in his own. The look on her face was one of shock and disbelief.

"I meet the angel, just as soon as he's no longer an angel. Great. How about Dean, then?" Sam seemed to come alive at this after watching the interchange between them, his arms waving and his face screaming out a silent _no_. Charlie stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms over her chest at that point.

Castiel was very confused.

At that moment, Kevin stumbled out of his makeshift room, rubbing blearily at his eyes and sniffling drily. "Is someone cooking bacon, because I really hate it when you guys cook that sizzling fat in front of me - " he broke off his statement when his eyes fell to Charlie. Instantly he straightened his back, attempting to look nothing like the weary boy he was.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Not my type." Charlie grinned, wiggling her fingers at him devilishly. Kevin blushed and shrugged, making his way into the kitchen shortly after. Charlie turned her attention back to Castiel. "So, Cas," Charlie intoned, crossing one leg over the other, "what have you been up to lately?"

A period of silence ensued as the fallen angel squinted his eyes and thought. "Not much," he gruffly admitted at last, "although Dean promised to take me shopping for new clothes today. He does not want me wearing his clothes anymore."

At this Charlie frowned and leaned forward on her elbows. "How long have you been wearing his clothes?"

"About a week and a half," Castiel shrugged. The fiery-haired woman smiled brightly and visibly relaxed. Why was she so invested in what Castiel wore?

"Well, I'm sure the Queendom of Moondor can go without their Queen for a day," Charlie shrugged, offering a wink to Castiel, "After all, her newest mage needs a wardrobe change."

"Charlie, are you sure that's a-"

"Shut up Sam, it's a great idea. Dean will come too, and we can figure out what Cas here likes!"

Dean poked his head out of his and Castiel's shared room (he still didn't want to move rooms, despite the fact that the others had all settled in to their own respectful dorms). He wore some chain mail across his chest, and the rest of his costume was cut off by the door. "What're we doing?" He asked, a look of horror dawning on his face.

"Take off your warrior getup, handmaiden! Today we're going _shopping_." Charlie seemed happy about this, so much moreso than should be socially acceptable.

"But then I - fuck," he grumbled before disappearing back into his room.

* * *

The mall was, to say in the slightest, Earth's closest rendition to Hell there ever was. Loud, annoying consumers crawled all over, meaning to buy the best bargain and fight for what they thought was the right price. It was a no-man's land of torture and unneeded pain.

So why Cas was trying on shirts and pants in the middle of a Macy's was beyond him. Dean seemed to share his opinion on the matter, preferring to sit on the seat outside the changing rooms and rate his outfits, but Charlie seemed to flit from place to place, picking out clothes she deemed fashionable and shoving them into Castiel's unwilling arms.

Castiel found the notion of trying on clothes to be unnecessary and redundant. He already knew how to put on clothes. He also knew what clothes looked like on his body. Why did he need to do the same thing for every article of clothing Charlie provided?

When he asked Dean, the hunter just quietly shook his head and shrugged. "It's not so bad," he gestured for Cas to rotate so he could see all of the outfit Charlie had picked out for him, "Anyways, I kinda like the look of this one."

They bought a lot of clothes. Charlie insisted on having a 'fashion show' for Dean, including some things she picked out for herself. Dean was slightly amused, whereas Cas was beginning to get exasperated and bored.

Boredom was Castiel's least favorite aspect of being human.

* * *

By the time they got back, it was nearly dark. The bunker had an airy aroma of well-cooked meat, and Sam was still in their makeshift living room. A book was in his lap and a grimace on his face, while Crowley's yelling filled the air. "What do you mean you don't eat meat?"

"I'm a _vegetarian_, you asshat!" Kevin yelled back. Clearly tensions were high. "I don't eat meat!"

Dean burst into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves and grumbling incoherently to himself. Castiel could hear his orders from the living room. "Calm your shit, damn it! Kev, there's some of your leftover food from last week in the fridge. Crowley, don't harass the prophet."

Charlie chuckled lightly and walked over to Sam. She closed his book with a look of innocence and smirked down at him. "So... _Dean's_ the mother hen?"

"I think he likes it," Sam shrugged, opening his book once more with a scowl. Charlie huffed and sat on the arm of his chair.

"Tomorrow I'm bringing you all up with me to Moondor. I need my best warriors, and if I can bag a mage and a seer, all the better. I bet Crowley would be an Orc, though."

Castiel didn't know what 'Moondor' was, but it did not sound pleasant.


	4. Handmaidens and Manservants

**A/N: SURPRISE I AM RETURN!**  
**I have been so busy and also my muse decided to work on high school AU, oops. HERE I WORKED ON THIS FOR A FEW WEEKS BEFORE I WAS HAPPY WITH IT KIND OF.**  
**I realized Charlie didn't really meet with Crowley last time, so I fixed that my the dialogue at the beginning of this installment. WOO!**

* * *

"So... you're Crowley, huh?"

"The one and only."

"You're... not exactly the _King Arthur_ I'd imagined."

"Sorry to disappoint, love. If it makes you feel better, I'm more like the castle's kitchen manager now."

"You're human, too?"

"Why else do you think I'd willingly hang around with these boys? Certainly not because I like the _family ambiance_."

"Touché. Still, I'm kinda sad that I don't get to meet the famous not-human creatures from Supernatural."

"Oi. I'm still famous! Just not the King 'a Hell!"

"Well, still. I'd like to meet one person who can crush a can with their mind."

"I think that Antichrist kid is still running around. Last I heard, he was somewhere in Africa."

"... I'm not that desperate, anyways. You and Cas are just fine for me, thanks."

"I feel so _appreciated_."

"Crowley! Charlie! Where the hell are you guys? We leave for Moondor in fifteen minutes!"

- "We'll be there, don't worry!"  
- "Coming, Dean!"

* * *

Castiel hadn't known what Moondor was twenty-four hours ago.

He debilitated between wanting to travel back in time so he would never remember the place, and letting a wide smile crack across his face and 'roleplay' with Dean.

When he voiced his mixed emotions with the Winchesters (and Crowley and Kevin), Sam had laughed and Crowley just rolled his eyes. Kevin smiled, but said nothing. Dean had choked for a moment, his face alarmingly red and eyes wide with worry, but then the air calmed, and a small smirk graced his face.

"Let's get your robes then, Mage," Charlie had announced from the back of her tent. She was rummaging through some old drawers of hers. A large pile of 'denied' clothing was at her feet, while a much smaller pile of 'acceptable' clothing rested on her bed. Castiel wondered why Charlie had a bed in her tent, anyways. It was unlikely that she actually slept in it.

Charlie let out a yelp, which successfully distracted Castiel from his thoughts. When he looked at her, she was holding up a large violet cloak. "_Perfect_," she breathed, and shook off some dust that had collected on it. She winked at Castiel, arching one eyebrow perfectly before shoving the robe towards him. "Put this on," she grinned, "it'll look great!"

Dean was already in costume, and Castiel had a hard time looking away from the glimmering chain mail and breastplate. It was like a siren's song, but he still managed to drag his eyes away from the brightest soul (that he couldn't see anymore) and instead look upon the woman who presented him with... the _cloak_. He took it from Charlie with a mutter of "Thanks," and then shrugged it on. Charlie pulled the hood over his face, effectively blocking his top line of sight. "I can't see," he complained, and then pulled the hood up just slightly to allow a better field of vision.

"You are the perfect Mage!" Charlie crowed, grinning brightly. Dean was smiling as well, and that was the only reason Cas did not frown at the woman beside him and take off the cloak. If Dean liked it, he would continue to wear it. "Come on, I'm going to show off my newest court subjects," she waggled her eyebrows, and took Cas by the bicep and dragged him out of her tent.

Crowley, Kevin and Sam were all dressed up, as well. Crowley was wearing a breastplate and some chain mail, covering up the leather and velvet cloth-mixture he wore underneath the metal. Kevin was wearing a cloak similar to Castiel's, although his was a deep forest green in comparison. Sam was wearing something similar to Dean's, a strange combination of armor, leather and chain mail. He had his hair tied back in what Charlie called a 'ponytail', which had Kevin and Crowley laughing hysterically.

Kevin also looked a little weirded out by this, but still relatively happy. Sam had a twitch to his lips, and it grew into a smirk when his eyes fell upon Cas and Dean. Crowley, however, looked absolutely thunderous (after his amusement over Sam's hairstyle). "Why are we even here?" He grumbled, "I _hate_ bloody LARPing."

"Dean and Charlie love it, so shut up and deal." Sam gently whacked the ex-demon on the back of the head, still smirking. Castiel decided not to face the wrath of either one of the two, and instead decided to ask how, exactly, did one play their roles in Moondor.

"Well," Charlie grinned, her eyes twinkling like stars, "since I have a handmaiden already, you can be my two can... _collaborate_ on how to best serve me."

Dean coughed into his fist, and was that a smile Cas saw behind Dean's eyes? "All right, Thursday. Let's get going."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, I'm gonna take you to the blacksmith's, so you can pick out a weapon of some kind. Then I'll teach you how to use it, since you should get used to human fighting now. Sound good?" Castiel couldn't ignore the look of a hopeful baby animal that dawned on Dean's face, and simply because of that he shrugged, shyly nodded and stood aside so Dean could begin walking. The hunter grabbed Castiel's hand and took the lead.

As they passed through the throngs of strangely-dressed men and women, a few grinned and hooted as Dean passed through them. Cas thought he heard a few whispers of, "No wonder he's the _handmaiden_ to the Queen of Moons," and, "I_knew_ he was gay!", but Dean steadily ignored these comments as he continued to drag Castiel through the people.

The blacksmith's was... _smelly_. Castiel hadn't had too much encounter with smells since he became mortal, but generally he spent most of his time in the bunker, in Dean's' room, the reading room, or the kitchen - all three of which had the comforting smells of what Cas was beginning to consider 'home'. This place, however, smelled of sweat, iron and fire... something he was not accustomed to smelling when mixed together. Castiel did not enjoy that stench, really.

"Ah, Winchester! Good day! I see you have brought a newcomer today!" The blacksmith bellowed, sweeping Dean up in a hug that Castiel was sure would break a few ribs. He shied away from physical contact, for the most part, but Dean and Sam were the only two who could pat him on the back or hug him without consequence.

"Yeah, he's a mage looking for some type of sword. I'd go with something a little lighter, for people with more balance - what do you think?" Dean was in business mode at the moment, and Castiel had to grudgingly smile at how seriously he was taking it.

"Well, what's his name? I'd enjoy conversing with this stranger to the Moons, if you don't have a quarrel."

Dean looked back at Castiel, who simply shrugged and grunted, "Castiel."

The blacksmith grinned widely and made a step towards him, but as Castiel took a step backwards his smile died down a bit and he stepped down as well. "No fear, Castiel," he said after a moment of scrutiny, "I believe I know the sword best for you."

Oh joy.


End file.
